Steve tossed and turned around on the chair, flopping every which way. No matter what, he couldn't get comfy. It wasn't the overly plush ridiculously expensive plush recliner that he was sitting in that was the problem, no certainly not, seeing as to Tony picking them out especially. No, it was the rain that was pouring down relentlessly on the New York skyline. He was supposed to be drawing in Central Park right now, sketching out a scene of nature. But because it was so very soggy out, he couldn't even brave the wild weather for a simple walk. So here he was sitting, full of pent up energy with nothing to do. In walks the man himself, Tony Stark.
He walked into the main sitting room, shared by all the avengers in the tower, tapping away at something or another on his starkpad, always on hand. He walked further into the room, and looked up as Steve shifted again on the chair, crinkled New York Time paper in his hands, being worried distractedly.
"Hey Steve, you ok? You look a little put out today." Tony said, with concern in his voice.
Tony walked up behind the chair to rub his shoulders, as they were tensed up with the pent up grievances. Steve immediately relaxed into his ministrations, becoming less agitated by the moment. He could feel Tony's dexterous fingers digging in, working out all the kinks and knots, turning him into a loose puddle of goo. A moan slipped out before I could stop myself, and immediately I blushed at the indecent sound I just made.
Tony is my friend, strictly my friend. He likes women, not men, not me. Tony just chuckled at the sound, continuing my impromptu massage.
"You know, if you took your shirt off, this would work alot better. Also, lying on a flat surface would help. You know, like a bed?" He murmured quietly, not quite breaking the silence that surrounded the two of us.
I looked up at Tony, and saw his eyes dilated, about as much as mine must look.
"You sure about that being a good idea, Tony? It could change everything."
"Since when have I ever been sure of something being a good idea? All I know is that I want to give you a massage, and you definitely need one." He smirked, hands slipping down past my shoulders to rub at my broad chest.
He straightened up, and sauntered past me, still sitting on the chair. Looking back, he quirked an eyebrow at me. "Coming Rogers?"